


The Fall

by msermesth



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Avengers Prime, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV First Person, post siege
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 18:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17472812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msermesth/pseuds/msermesth
Summary: Steve gets hurt in the beginning of Avengers Prime, Tony takes care of him.





	The Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sheron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheron/gifts).



> This is for you sheron! I've really enjoyed getting to know you more this year and am happy to be able to write for you. You've inspired me to write in first person, and it was actually a lot of fun.
> 
> This diverges from canon very early in Avengers Prime.
> 
> Thank you to Ironlawyer for helping brainstorm this with me.

Ugh. Why did it have to be some far away fantasy world? Why was it every time I was transported to a different dimension and my armor failed, I never landed in a place with electricity?

This was definitely Steve’s fault. I was not sure how, but yep, one-hundred-percent his fault.

(Steve would say the opposite and he’d be right.)

Where was he, anyway? If only I could get the armor moving, I could find him, and Thor, and we could go back to civilization and warm coffee. Did they even have coffee here? People, even? I hadn't seen anyone since I crashed.

What if they were somewhere else, some one dimension? Maybe I was all alone. I fiddled with the armor faster, pouring all my focus onto getting it running again so that when I did find Steve and Thor, I’d be ready.

(I probably wasn’t going to find them. The thought didn’t slow me down, though.)

“Tony!” I heard someone shout from a far distance, so far that even when I looked up to see the source I only saw a dark shadow on the horizon.

I stood up and watch as the man--or most likely a man with those shoulders--slowly approached, the setting sun lighting him from behind and leaving him as only a dark silhouette. There was something off about his gait and the way he was holding his arm. He appeared to be injured and losing the struggle to stay upright fast.

“Are you ok?” I shouted.

The man didn’t answer.

“Do you need help?”

The man fell to his knees, clutching his elbow tight, and no longer cast in the shadow from the sun behind him, I knew exactly who he was.

I ran. “STEVE!” I ran _fast_.

Steve’s head tilted up and he tried to say something, and now I knew I hadn't heard because he couldn’t barely form words.

“It’s going to be ok. You’re going to be ok,” I began to say, even though I was just sinking to my knees beside him to examine his injuries.

“You should see… the other… guy,” Steve panted. I took heart in the fact that his voice was coming in stronger as he spoke.

“And who exactly was the other guy?” I saw at least one broken arm and the beginnings of bruises all over his face. Whoever they were, they got him good.

“A tree,” Steve replied and I can tell he was trying to keep the mood light. Not a good sign. “I had a rough landing.”

“Looks like it.” There was a sticky-wet spot on the front of his black turtleneck. “Is that blood?” I asked, and didn’t wait for a response before I began to tug up the wool sweater. “Not trying to feel you up, I promise,” I whispered, trying to deflect my own nerves as I discovered a gash covered in dried blood right above Steve’s belly button.

Steve rested a hand on my shoulder and I couldn't believe he was reassuring _me_. “I think it missed the important stuff.”

“You think?” I didn’t feel an ounce of embarrassment with how hysterical I sounded.

His fingers covered mine where I was gingerly tracing the edges of the wound. “It’s already healing. I’m going to be fine.” His face was pale and his breathing was shallow, but he was right about the wound. It already was healing. “I just need to rest for a little bit and get my strength up.”

I looked around me, and saw nothing but an empty field rapidly falling into darkness as the sun finally disappeared. “There isn’t really anywhere to go,” I began after failing to see anywhere to hide Steve while he was on the mend. I tugged down his sweater and rubbed my hand over my shoulder.

Steve’s eyes followed the movement of my hand. “Where’s Thor?” he asked, but he doesn’t look up to check the horizon.

“I don’t know.” I felt hopelessly lost in this situation. “I hope he’s ok,” I said instead of all the other things passing through my mind. Steve murmured in agreement and I could tell neither of us was worried. It was Thor, after all. The bigger question was just how long we would have to wait for him and whether we should’ve been waiting here at all.  “Do you think you can get up?” I wrapped an arm around his back and tried to provide as much support as I could as he lifted himself up by his good arm.

It didn’t go well, and I managed to get Steve just high enough that it sounded like hurt when he fell. “I think the answer to that is no,” Steve grumbled into my shoulder. It was good, feeling him that close, even if he turned away as soon as I began to rub soothing circle into his back. “Sorry I can’t be of much help.” Steve sounded like the part of him being injured that was supposed to bother me was that he couldn’t defend us.

Not, you know, the whole thing about him being injured in the first place. “Don’t worry about it,” I tossed off, because now that the immediate threat of death was gone, I wasn’t comfortable admitting how much I was worrying.

Steve smiled, kind of sad and kind of sweet, and he edged himself down so that he was laying on his back. “Are you cold?” he asked, and looked between me and my just-out-of-sight armor.

“Huh?” I was still slightly disoriented from the whiplash of emotions banging around my mind. “Maybe a little bit?” Cold was probably an over statement, but as the sun slipped behind the horizons, I could imagine the oncoming chill.

Steve tugged at my arm and I stared at him in confusion, unsure of what he was asking for and why he couldn’t just use his words. “Come down here,” he sad, soft, tired, and I reached out to where his hand circled my arm. A thin and invisible barrier separated us, made up of all the apologies we were never going to say.

That barrier was such a strange thing, because it replaced all the careful distance I used to demarcate how I wanted Steve and how I could have him. At this moment, those questions seemed insignificant and unnecessary, jumbled and confused, and I slipped down until I lay beside Steve. Certainly he hated me, but right now that meant nothing. Right now I could just be with him. “Hmm, it's a little warmer down here.” Maybe it wasn't, but my skin sparked with something akin to sunshine.

Steve took my arm and rested it across his chest, above his injury. I curled behind him so that my head was leaning on my other arm and the entire front of my body was flush with Steve's back. He was quiet, and I imagined him lost in a memory. “You're right. It's much warmer here.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, somewhere near the end of this, I realized that Steve just spent a lot of time reliving his life, including his time in the ice, and was probably very sensitive to being cold, and thus overwhelmed by the idea of Tony keeping him war. Alas, I never got a chance to write it.


End file.
